Underworld
by Black Angel of the Underworld
Summary: A lonely but famous painter, Reborn finds solace in his own work. He can create and destroy worlds with a stroke of a brush. However, it all comes tumbling down when the sacred boundaries between the seven parallel worlds are broken. *The story's path will follow the choices that the readers make*


**Chapter 1**

The sunlight was warm against his skin and the gentle breeze soothed him considerably, relaxing his nerves. The grass felt cool against his back and he discarded his suit jacket long ago. It was silent, blissfully silent.

"Reborn," a voice said. It was faint and the man only heard it as a whisper; other than that, it was quiet.

"I'm coming in, Reborn," the voice said again.

Reborn snapped his eyes open, a sudden sensation running through his body. There was an invisible pull from behind and he landed on the wooden floors of his office just in time for the door to be open.

"Reborn?" the Chinese man said in worry. "Are you alright? Did something happen?"

He looked around his large nearly empty office. Reborn stood up and brushed his pants casually, acting as if nothing happened. "Fon."

He walked over to his large sturdy oak desk and shifted through some papers. "I'm not in the mood at the moment."

"Do not worry, my friend," Fon said with a smile. He then frowned. "But are you sure you're alright?"

Reborn waved him off. "It's nothing. Why are you here?"

He took out a cigarette and lit it with lighter, pocketing the item and blowing out a puff of smoke from his lips. "I won't ask again."

Fon took out a ticket from his sleeves with a gentle smile. "Today is the art exhibition of your recent gallery."

"I don't go to exhibitions," Reborn said, placing his feet on the desk listlessly. "This place is a better sanctuary. Stop wasting your energy."

The other man didn't listen to him as he placed it on the table. He smiled that same irking smile. "I left the guest list in the file as well. Please help yourself."

Reborn ignored him, letting a stream of smoke escape his lips. He tapped his cigarette over his ashtray, his mind wandering elsewhere.

Fon looked at him and sighed. "You can't stay here forever, Reborn. All of us are worried."

"They don't need to be worried," Reborn said, irritation showing in his tone. "I moved on. Isn't there an exhibition you have to attend?"

The rather gentle man scowled lightly. "You are still a child at heart, my friend. My only advice for you is to forget."

Reborn glared at him but he already left, closing the door behind him. He jammed his cigarette on the ashtray, a small hiss echoing in the room. He stood up and looked over the various paintings that littered the walls, not showing. A scowl marred his features when his eyes landed on the one with a hand reaching out to him.

Memories flashed in his head and he rubbed his face wearily, sighing deeply in his hands. His breath smelled like cigarettes and coffee.

_"Reborn, cover me, kora!"_

_"Colonello, where are you going?"_

Several gunshots rang in his head and he placed his hand on his forehead, wincing in pain. Shouts echoed in his ears and he stumbled over to his desk, taking out some pills. His hand trembled slightly as he swallowed them, pouring a cup of water.

The cool liquid felt soothing in his dry throat. He let out a sigh as he collapsed on his chair, feeling exhausted. He closed his eyes momentarily before opening them again with another sign.

He glanced at the file on his desk, untouched just like the rest of them. And yet he found himself flipping through the guest list, scanning the names with disinterest, until one caught his eye.

Aria Nero and Yuni Nero...

Fon knew how to play his game didn't he? Reborn tossed the file on his desk with a scoff and took out another cigarette.

_"Uncle, that's not healthy,"_ Yuni's voice said in his head.

Reborn hesitated for a moment until he flicked his lighter, breathing in deeply and slowly exhaling. It was a habit, a habit that he couldn't let go. It wasn't pleasant either. It reminded him of the dark days, the war, the kills...and yet he couldn't stop. It's as if his mind liked playing sick jokes on him, forcing him to succumb to the bittersweet darkness.

He traced one of his paintings, the paint feeling rough against his fingertips. It was a woman holding a small bundle close to her chest, tears trailing down her cheeks. It wasn't Aria, his half-sister, but it reminded him of her.

Despite the cool paint, he could feel the warmth radiating from the picture and the apparent joy that tingled on his skin. A small smile spread on his lips.

Suddenly, a crash came from behind him. He turned to see one of his paintings on the ground and froze when a bloody hand slowly emerged.

"Help...me..." a voice said weakly.

A scream tore the air and the hand was sucked back in the painting, blood pooling around the frame, trickling towards Reborn's feet as if it had a mind of its own.

The man took a step back when the blood formed into a hand, reaching out to him, before it quickly receded back into the painting.

Reborn blinked. What the hell was that? This never happened before. None of his paintings could escape into this world nor could it pass the boundary he created.

He fell onto his knees. Did that mean...?

His eyes widened. No, that was impossible. It was unlikely to ever happen. The other guardians were strong enough to keep the other worlds intact. The boundaries between them were sacred, unbreakable.

So...what happened?

* * *

**Ignore it and go to the art exhibition.**

**Go in the painting.**

* * *

**A/N Hope you guys enjoyed it! ^^  
**

**Whichever choice has the most pick will be selected and the story is generally modified to go that direction, whichever it may be.**

**Remember, the story is basically in your hands, my fellow readers, especially pairings. ^^**

**Thank you for reading! See you in the next chapter.**


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